What's In a Name?
by Sexy Meat Pies
Summary: "She was Charlotte. All she had wanted was for him to call her Charlotte. And instead, he murdered her family. The least he could do was call her Charlotte now."


**October 2010 (2 years before the Blackout)**

**Chicago, United States of America**

Charlie Matheson had just celebrated her fourth birthday. She was older. She _felt_ older. No longer was she to play with big, colorful, soft baby toys. Now, she had moved on to dress-up clothes and dolls, complete with miniature castles. And preschool, where she learned that her mommy and daddy were called scientists, even though they were called "_Dr_. Rachel and _Dr_. Ben Matheson". They built things and worked with machines that were supposed to change the world and help people. But Charlie didn't want to be a scientist. She wanted to be something much more important – a princess. When Charlie was watching _Sleeping Beauty _and other princess movies, she noticed that the future queens all had grand, beautiful names. Aurora and Cinderella and Snow White. She wanted a princess name. While contemplating this during carpet time at school, she remembered she too had a grand, beautiful name.

"Mommy," Charlie called during breakfast the next morning as her mother attempted to cook and feed her baby brother, Danny, at the same time. "Mommy, I would like to be called Charlotte."

"What?" Rachel Matheson asked her daughter as her new-born son wiggled around in his chair. He had just learned to sit up on his own, but he could use his spine as well as any toddler.

"My real name is Charlotte," Charlie said. It wasn't a question, but her mother answered anyway.

"Yes, after your grandma."

"I want you to call me _Charlotte_," the girl announced proudly, "_Charlotte_ is a princess name." Rachel looked up at her husband, smiling. She looked down at her daughter.

"Alright then, Princess Charlotte," she said, "would you like blueberry or maple syrup with your pancakes?"

…..

On the car ride home from preschool, Danny was screaming. Rachel had to work late and he wanted his mother. Ben was exhausted. Charlie was excited. A friend in preschool had taught her how to make a pillow fort and Charlie wanted to do it with her father. She wanted to make the world's best pillow fort. No, even better. A pillow _castle_.

"Daddy, after dinner, can play princesses?"

"Maybe, Charlie," Ben replied, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his eyes, 'We'll see."

"Charlotte, daddy. My name is _Charlotte_."

"Right, sorry, Charlotte."

…..

"Mommy, will you build a pillow castle with me? Daddy is busy."

Charlie was standing in the doorway of her brother's nursery, her mother's back to her. She was trying to get Danny to sleep, to no avail.

"Charlie, baby, not right now, ok?"

"Mommy, I _told_ you, my name is Charlotte now. Remember?"

"Of, course, Charlotte. I'm sorry. But it's getting pretty late. Why don't you go put on your pjs and brush your teeth?"

"Ok," she mumbled, walking away. These days, it seemed like her parents never remembered to set aside time for her. They were both so busy. Especially since her brother had been born six months ago. And he was sick a lot too. Charlie could recall her parents telling her that Danny was a special baby and she would always have to be very gentle with him. She was just as scared as they were every time they had to rush to the hospital, her hand clutching her father's as if Danny's chances got better the harder she squeezed. She remembered her mommy and daddy crying, and the doctor saying her brother might not make it. She had pressed her nose against the glass of the nursery, looked at her sleeping, deep-breathing baby brother and decided that he _would_ make it. And that's all there was to it. Because she had wished him better. And he made it.

But as relieved as little Charlie Matheson was, it seemed to have a price. Her parents rarely were able to sit down and play with her anymore or watch a movie. The most family time they had anymore was dinner. And often, they would have to rush back to work, and she would be baby sat by Mrs. Grace. But sometimes, and Charlie lived for these moments, her Uncle Miles would watch her. She hadn't seen him in a long time. He was away. Fighting for America, is what her mother told her. Her mother had cried when he left.

"Charlie, are you ready?" Rachel called.

"Yes, mommy," Charlie called back. She didn't bother correcting her mother. She was tired, Charlie knew that. Besides… she would only forget.

* * *

><p><strong>August 2011 (1 Year before the Blackout)<strong>

**Chicago, United States of America**

Miles Matheson and Bass Monroe sped along the highway in Miles' beat-up red car, listening to some Zeppelin, the windows down. It had been a long time since the AC had worked in this car. They were on their way to Miles' brother's house, to babysit. Bass was nervous. It had been a year or so since he had seen the kids. Danny had just been born, and he stopped with Miles to see him. Charlie was three, almost four. It was a short visit. He didn't see them again. He'd been busy. Shortly after Danny's birth, his family had been killed, hit head on by a drunk driver. After that, Bass was emotionally unstable. Another reason Rachel had deemed him unsuitable to watch her children.

Well, that wasn't fair. She has never explicitly _said_ she didn't want him around her kids. But the few times he'd seen her since the accident, and he asked where the kids were… he could tell. Rachel had never really liked him anyway. Despite being a pretty intelligent person, she had zeroed in on one aspect of him: his social life. Bass liked sex. Was that so wrong? He had never hit on Rachel or her friends. That would be horrible. He actually considered himself to be a gentleman. But because he talked to girls and had hook-ups (which were totally mutually agreed upon to be one night things, by the way, always), she has pinned him as a "womanizing drunk". And still, the two were friends. She was just… worried. Overprotective. Hell, he didn't blame her, really. After what she'd been through with Danny.

"Bass, you ok?" his best friend asked. "You're quiet. Which is a relief, don't get me wrong, but… not like you."

"Yeah, man, I'm fine," he chuckled. "Just thinking."

"Are you still nervous about this? Dude, they're kids!" Miles laughed at him.

"Yeah, I know, and it's not them I'm worried about."

"It's Rachel," the two men said at the same time. They chuckled.

"Honestly, Bass," Miles said, turning the radio down, "she's not that bad. She comes across as the mean mama bear sometimes, but she's just protective."

"And scary. When Rachel gets mad, she is _scary_. I forget to make them brush their teeth, she'll kill me!"

"Ok, one, Danny doesn't brush his own teeth. He's one. Alright, two, she won't kill you. The kids are gonna love you. And when Rachel sees that, she'll chill out."

"They're not gonna love me. Name one kid that's _loved_ me in the past year."

"Uh… name one kid you've _spoken_ to in the last year."

"Exactly, Miles."

"Ok, Bass," he rolled his eyes, "If you are really that worried about this, here: Danny likes trains. Simple and easy to play with, ok? Charlie like princesses and if you call her Charlotte, she will sing your praises to Rachel before she steps foot out the door." Of course, that was six months ago. But how much could a little girl really change in half a year? Miles smirked as he wondered if he could use Bass' worriedness to get him into a makeover from the 5 year old. That'd be fun for both Charlie and Miles. And Facebook.

When they knocked on the door, of course it was Charlie herself who answered it. She looked up at the two men, exclaiming her biological uncle's name excitedly. She then turned her attention to Bass. She studied him inquisitively, having recognized him, but not putting face, name, and relationship to her all together just yet. Bass attempted a smile and then looked up at Rachel, who was watching him in a way he felt was more critical than her daughter. He heard Miles snicker softly. He took a deep breath.

"Hi, Charlotte! Would you like to build a castle?" He said it as excitedly as he could manage but Charlie still gaped up at him. No one had called her Charlotte in a long time. She gave up trying months ago. But she suddenly remembered the man and what the name meant to her. She beamed.

"Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Bass and Uncle Miles are here and they're going to play princesses with me!"

* * *

><p><strong>May 2012 (4 months before the Blackout)<strong>

**Chicago, United States of America**

Bass was waiting on Mathesons' couch, waiting for Miles. They were supposed to be taking Charlie for ice cream while Ben and Rachel took Danny for a routine check-up. Everyone was praying he wouldn't need surgery or some other treatment again. But it seemed like he always did. When they got to the house, however, Charlie was angry and crying. She wanted to go with them, and was furious that her mother wouldn't let her. Miles and Rachel were trying to convince her that going for ice cream would be a better idea. Bass looked at his phone as it buzzed and replied to the text quickly.

"Is that one of your girls?" he looked up to see Rachel, her arms crossed, looking at him skeptically.

"Uh, no, it-it was just some guy, wondering when Miles and I would be back at base." A small smile broke onto her face.

"I'm kidding, Bass," she laughed, "I know it was a girl. It's you we're talking about."

"You used to not be ok with that," he challenged.

"It's you," she repeated, "I'm used to it. And besides, the kids both like you. You're good with them. I don't mind… as long as the girls aren't around my kids."

"Oh, God, no," he chuckled. "Is Charlie going with us?"

"Yes, she is," Miles called from the hallway, where he was holding an angry, sniffling Charlie's hand. "Whether she likes it or not." Charlie sniffed and went to grab her pink, sparkly backpack that was on the chair next to Bass.

"Hey, Charlie, it's ok," Bass attempted, "You, me, and Miles will have tons of fun, ok?" The girl looked up and glared at him with intensity that did not belong in a six-year-old's eyes.

She threw a plastic toy wand from her pack at him and snapped, "It's still Charlotte to you."

* * *

><p><strong>November 2027 (15 years after the Blackout)<strong>

**Philadelphia, Monroe Republic**

General Sebastian Monroe took a drink from his expensive crystal glass and nodded at the captain's statement.

"Thank you. Dismissed."

"Sir," the captain began, but then softened his voice and spoke to his friend, "Bass, are you ok?"

"Captain, I no longer require your presence," Monroe said, looking around the makeshift office in the power plant quickly, assuring himself there were no other soldiers in the room to hear him being spoken to this way.

"C'mon, Bass, we're friends. And ever since that Matheson kid got here, you've been on edge. Now I tell you the girl is here as well… you look like you could piss your pants."

"_Dismissed_, Captain Baker," he growled, fingering his silver handgun.

"Is it because you know Miles is coming?"

"Jeremy, _out_!" he shouted, "Before I blow your damn face off." Jeremy Baker sighed. He went too far. The man that had saved his life was not the man before him now. Not when he was this stressed.

"Sir," he said, making a slight bow before turning and leaving the room.

Bass sighed, sitting in his chair. Yes, it was Miles. It was _always_ about Miles. Miles… who left. Who left him with a country to run. Alone. He left him _alone_. Miles was all he had ever had. His only family for the last seventeen years. Miles had promised he wouldn't leave him. And then he did.

Now Ben, his real brother was dead. Rachel wished she was. Danny wished _Bass_ was. They all did. Even Charlie. _Charlotte,_ he remembered bitterly. The kid that had gotten so angry when he called her Charlie was now his prisoner. Just like her mother, just like her brother. Was that how Miles felt? That he was a prisoner to Bass' seemingly perfect world?

Bass sighed again and poured himself another drink. It seemed too perverse. When Charlie was a kid, she could get Bass to do anything. He was the only one. Rachel was a non-nonsense, often strict mom. Ben followed her lead. And Miles would laugh at her demands and say "yeah, right, kid. Try again later." But Bass… he was desperate for her to like him. If she didn't, she'd tell her mom. Her mom would, in turn, not like him either. And for Miles family to not like him… that would be like his own family not liking him. So Bass became the pushover uncle who spent many nights after babysitting wrestling Miles' phone away from him so he could delete the pictures of himself covered in makeup before Miles plastered them onto Facebook.

And now Charlie hated him. She should hate him. Everyone else did. Miles did. Bass hated himself. But did Charlie know that General Sebastian Monroe was her funny Uncle Bass? Did she ever know his full name? Had Ben ever told her that the "Terror of Toledo", killer of men, kidnapper of children, destroyer of America…. Did he tell her that he used to sing her to sleep at night? Bass highly doubted it. He stood up. Well… it was now or never.

He walked down the hallway. What would he say to her? Would he try to come across as terrifying and intimidating? Or the "I'll help you if you help me" type of guy? Rachel would be there. She wouldn't buy that crap for a second. And what if she remembered him and just looked critically up at him like she did when she was a kid? He didn't want to do this. He didn't want _any_ of this. He did this for _Miles._ The army, the country, everything was for _Miles._ Miles had given him a family, he had given Miles the world. But Miles didn't want it. He felt the price was too high. He ran, leaving Bass in his dust. And now Bass was in too deep. He told himself he would do better. He told himself he didn't like the power, that he'd stop abusing it. But he also told himself, almost every night, "one more drink, just one more"… then he passed out.

He opened the door and he saw the small family huddled around the couch. Rachel saw him first, and looked at him so angrily, so fiercely, he had to address her.

"Rachel," he called. The three Mathesons looked up. He saw the girl who must be Charlie. She looked so… different. She was beautiful. Her eyes were as blue as his own, and still filled with that intensity that had always been there. And anger. She was so angry… angry at him. She'd kill him right now if she could. Just like Miles. He remembered he was addressing Rachel. "Must be nice to have both your kids back." She glared at him. He looked back at Charlie. What would he say? He couldn't call her Charlie. He just couldn't. She was Charlotte. All she had wanted was for him to call her Charlotte. And instead, he murdered her family. The least he could do was call her Charlotte now.

"Hello, Charlotte," he said. He noticed Danny shift, as if to protect her. He resisted the urge to take a deep breath and kept his eyes hard. He wouldn't say 'nice to see you again'. He would not let her know he was Uncle Bass… or that he used to be. He didn't need any more people disappointed in him. Especially not innocent little Charlie. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm General Monroe". She glared up at him. But it was better than looking surprised and hurt. General Monroe was safe. General Monroe was the mask Bass hid behind. He was cruel, he was ruthless, he got things done. Bass was a lonely boy who had been abandoned time and time again. By Emma, by his family, by Shelly…. By Miles. He could not be Bass. He had to be General Monroe.

"What did you do to my son?" Rachel asked sharply. _Do not apologize,_ he told himself. _The General doesn't apologize._ General Monroe forced himself to shove Bass out of the way, to the side, to cry in his little corner of the General's mind. It took less than half a second, no time at all. No one could see the internal struggle he just went through. He didn't let it show. In fact, the deed was done before Rachel had finished her sentence.

"I am completely and utterly _done_ playing games with you, Rachel," Monroe snapped back. He went about explaining the situation. The amplifier that she would fix.

"Mom?" Charlie asked after he mentioned the screwdriver incident.

"Oh, I'm sure there's a lot about your mom you don't know," he said, with a bitter smile. She glared at him. He had to take a quick breath to keep Bass down. He held up the pendant. "You've seen one of these before, right? Know what it can do?" He explained the amplifier to her and then he watched as she urged her mother _not_ to finish the machine. Of course she would… she's Rachel's daughter. And he could see, on Rachel's face… she just might listen to her. But General Monroe couldn't let that happen. He _needed_ that amplifier. He really did. He had the psychopath Strausser come forward. He was going to kill one of the kids. Bass was struggling to get to the surface and say something, to stop this. But General Monroe would not let him. He drowned him again. Then again and again. Then something happened.

Charlie stood up. She _volunteered_ to die for her brother. And it reminded him of one person and one person only. Miles. He thought of Miles. She was exactly who he had thought Miles was. Hadn't Miles risked his life for Bass time and time again? And then he left him. When he became General Monroe, he didn't even _try_ to get Bass back, he just _left._ But Charlie was doing exactly what Miles would have done if he had never changed. Maybe it was time to set General Monroe aside. Be Bass again. One more minute as the General… one more drink… just until he gets through this.

Strausser put his finger on the trigger. It was at Charlie's head. _No!_ Bass screamed, _she is your family! No!_ He almost let Bass out. He had to. Just say the word _stop._ _Let the real you out!_ Ok… _I'm letting you go._ Bass opened his mouth.

Stop!" Rachel screamed before he could. "Stop! I will finish your damn amplifier! _Stop!"_ Her voice broke. He sighed in surprise. Rachel was actually doing what he wanted. He couldn't stop and be nice now… could he? He blinked. _Sorry, Bass. Sorry, Miles._

"See?" he asked smugly, "It's like Miles always said. A good hostage works every time." Charlie glared at him. She was never going to forgive him. There was no point. He already lost his family. If he wouldn't even save her from getting shot… he was too far gone. He needed Miles to bring him back. He need him. He had always needed him. But he was gone. He's probably see him later that day. If Miles came back. If he explained how screwed up his head was… he would come back, and he could be Bass again. And it'd be Bass and Miles, together again. Brothers. But he had to have the kids for that to happen. He had to have the soldiers for that to happen. And he needed power. Power is what Miles _wanted_. It's why they took Rachel in the first place. This was what Miles _wanted._ "Take them back to the holding cell." Bass ordered, "And if she steps out of line, if she even breathes funny… kill both the kids." He walked away without glancing at Charlie. He just couldn't.

* * *

><p><strong>September 2028 (16 years after the Blackout)<strong>

**Somewhere in the Plains Nation**

"You think we should stop for the night, Charlotte?" Bass asked, slowing down the reins. It seems like they've been on the road forever. _But it was worth it_, he thought, _soon enough I'll find Miles._

"Do what you want, Monroe," she replied lazily.

"You know, you don't have to call me Monroe," he pointed out.

"And you didn't have to murder my family," she said nonchalantly as she hopped off the cart. "I'm going to get some water, Monroe." He sighed and started tying up the horses. When he was finished, he laid out his sleeping bag. They had found some supplies in the wagon they stole from those bounty hunting bastards.

Bass sat down on his bag and began making a fire. He had a pretty sizeable one going when he realized Charlie had been gone too long. He stood up and looked around, putting his hand on his weapon.

"Charlotte?" he called, peering into the trees, his heart racing. He didn't want to admit it, but he still cared about her. If he lost that kid... one, Miles would murder him. Two… that would just be one more thing he did to her. He didn't need that. He was certain that she had remembered her 'Uncle Bass' by now and he couldn't let her down now. "Charlotte?!"

"I'm right here, dumbass" she said, emerging from the trees behind him, "Stop yelling unless you want to get us both killed."

"Where the hell were you?" he asked casually.

"I told you. Getting some water."

"Doesn't take that long to get water."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly in a huge hurry to come and hang out with you, was I?"

"Charlotte, it is dangerous out there. I already saved you once, don't go getting your ass hauled by more thugs-"

"Dangerous? You think I don't _know_ how dangerous it is?" she snapped. "I know, Monroe. You did an absolutely _wonderful_ job showing me just how horrifying people in this world are." She walked past him, not bumping his shoulder with hers, as he expected her to. It's what Miles would have done. She's so much like him now, in Bass' eyes. And who knew Miles better? He watched her lay out her own sleeping gear, well away from his own, and sit down, pulling out the jerky they'd lifted from the hunters. She ripped a piece off with her teeth and pushed back hair. She looked so tough. In Philly, all those months ago, he had been shocked at how she looked. Because the last time he'd seen her, she was six. But now… less than year later… she changed almost as much, it seemed. She was tougher, harder. She didn't have that bright, excitement and intensity in her eyes anymore. She seemed bored with everything… done with the world. It was the same look Miles often wore. Miles was cold and hard. He had seen that in the few times he talked with him. _We're still brothers_ he had said then ran away. Now Charlie was sad and lost and tough too. And it was all his fault.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"I said I'm sorry, Charlotte. I've hurt your family, alright, I know that. I know what I've done, whose blood is on my hands. I know. I never meant for any of that to happen. I'm sorry." There was a long silence. The she scoffed and continued eating. "What?"

"What do you expect me to say? That I forgive you? I _don't_, Monroe. So you can take yourself off your high horse and-"

"I don't expect you to forgive me" he snapped, "I apologized because you deserve an apology not because I deserve forgiveness. I know I don't, Charlotte. I know who I-"

'Why do you do that? Call me Charlotte?"

"It's your name," he shrugged, poking the fire with a stick.

"My name is Charlie and you know that."

"Well, to me it's Charlotte. It was always Charlotte to me." He looked up at her and their eyes locked. His words stirred memories for her and once again they drifted through her mind. Memories of smearing lipstick on this evil man's face. But he wasn't evil then. He was her uncle. Uncle Bass who took her to get ice cream. Hell, who let her have ice cream for _breakfast._ And she remembered her dad telling her that when she was little she liked to be called Charlotte, because it was a princess name. And she could recall only one person ever calling her Charlotte after very long. And he was now realizing it was General Monroe – her Uncle Bass. He used to be a good man… what happened?

Charlotte reminded her of what she meant it to. Happy endings. Happy days where her mom and dad spent all the time in the world playing with her _and_ Danny. But her dad and Danny were dead, murdered. They didn't get happy endings. And she wasn't sure she could ever forgive her mom. And she certainly wasn't living a dream and wouldn't for a long time, if ever. After everything that had happened… Charlie lived to survive day-to-day. She didn't believe in happy endings. She looked Monroe dead in the eyes.

"My name is Charlie," she repeated firmly, "I am not a princess. This is not a fairy-tale storybook world. This world is sick, and dangerous, and filled with anything _but_ happy endings. My name is Charlie. Don't call me Charlotte anymore."


End file.
